Entangled Minds
by OlympianWine
Summary: In the aftermath of war, Asgard must unite itself with other worlds. The throne belongs to Loki, and he will do everything and anything to keep it. He wants power, not love. But there are times when they seem almost the same. "We made a deal," he tells her, "you owe me an alliance." Her voice is almost a hiss, "You've taken me for a fool." Post TDW.
1. Prologue

_**I don't own anything that belongs to MARVEL/The MCU.**  
_

**Hello! First of all thank you for reading this, it's a story that wouldn't go away after seeing Thor 2. Loki has, and always will be my favourite character in the Marvel movies - thanks to the wonderful Tom Hiddleston's legendary acting skills. As you can tell, this continues from the ending of the 2nd movie so if you haven't seen it SPOILERS DON'T READ. Also, this story will contain an OFC. Enjoy!**

* * *

_This was it?_ This couldn't be it. And it had all been going so well...

Silently, Loki willed all of his magic towards his punctured chest. Had his magic deserted him too? It felt like it. This was not how he had meant to die.

_This was it,_ he realized. Panic began to smother him. Had his mother felt this when she had died?

He wouldn't even see her again - not where he was going.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he couldn't get the words out fast enough. Thor had to know, he had to hear it, how he wished that all was as it had once been. It mattered not what his brother thought of him, he wasn't long for this world.

The tears in Thor's eyes both surprised him, and comforted him. His yells turned into words. "I will tell father what you did here," he choked out, his large hands gripping him tightly. And for a moment, Loki saw the boy he had once called brother.

"I didn't do it for him."

But the light was fading and he felt cold.

* * *

There was dim light piercing his eyelids. Loki kept his eyes shut; this must be Hel.

"... chaps, he was definitely here!" Fandral's voice. Oh yes, this was Hel.

_Fandral?_

He opened his eyes abruptly. Air rattled in his chest as he tried to breathe steadily. Loki lifted his hands, feeling for the wound. There was none. His hands felt warm. He sat up, hearing footsteps and voices gradually coming closer. He raised his green eyes to the sky, which was grey and cloudy and familiar.

Not Hel, Svartalfheim.

Not dead. Alive.

A smile; half-relieved half-sardonic spread across his lips. Magic - his faithful friend, had once again rescued him.

Oh yes - very much alive.

* * *

"No, brother. Thank You."

Thor's red-shrouded figure was already gone. Loki smiled, basking in the few moments of being himself not Odin. That had gone astoundingly well. In fact, he was somewhat relieved - Thor's last rememberance of him was as a hero, and he was content to let it stay that way. He would hardly hear that Loki had survived from Midgard.

It was odd, he acknowledged, that he already felt a little alone. His relationship with his brother would never be as it was... and yet Asgard did not seem the same without him.

Loki quickly pushed his attention to other matters; his sentimentality was beginning to unnerve him.

Sif and the Warriors Three were locked away; Odin's actual doing, not his. Asgard needed many reparations, Malekith had severely damaged the Great Hall and many homes.

But first he must keep up the facade, then reappear. He must add even further glory to his name in the eyes of Asgard - especially to be accepted as their king.

* * *

Loki didn't wait long. Ten long days, playing as a grieving Odin who abandoned court matters and did nothing to help Asgard. By the end of the week rumours were already circulating that the All-Father was failing.

He was glad - he missed his own form and voice, hating the mirage he forced himself to wear. Having to be the man he detested the most was far more difficult than he had expected, but he proceeded. What was a mere week or two compared to the next millennia as a King?

Soon, the healers were informing him he needed to rest. 'Odin' complied. He grew weaker, letting the frail form he used wear away, and to the eyes of Asgard the All-Father was now dying.

Loki waited until they began to discuss sending word for Thor. "No," he told them, "Thor has no need nor want for the throne - I would not cast on him such a burden." As he kept insisting, the advisors grew more and more frantic.

"But who?" they asked. "Who will you give the throne to?" Inside, Loki smiled.

It was on one of these days, when 'Odin' was on his deathbed with the council gathered around him to discuss matters of state, that the doors opened and a guard ran in. "My King!" His eyes were wide and shocked. The room fell sileent. "There is- I cannot-"

"What?" he asked hoarsely. Loki relished in the gasps and cries that fill the chamber as his copy enters the room. He had to make himself appear unkempt, and he looked almost wild. Hair messy and dirty, face weary but still his own. He almost smiled at himself; the perfect ruse.

"Father." It's strange to hear himself talk to himself.

"Loki." He allowed moisture to fill Odin's one good eye - fake of course, what did he have to cry for? "I thought you dead."

"And I very nearly was, the dark elves, their magic is strong..." Loki paused. "But-"

"How did you survive?" A councilor interrupted him, and Loki tried to appear nonchalant. They always spoke over him.

His copy gestured with his hands. "I know not. Only that I was lost for a time, barely surviving, but was fortunate to come across an Asgardian troop." His eyes, green and deceptively honest, lift. "They have brought me home." A murmur of wonder runs through the courtiers and Loki fought the urge to grin. So easily fooled. "But where is Thor?" he questions, looking around the room in pretend concern.

"Your brother has given up the throne. He has returned to Midgard, to Jane Foster." He looks shocked, and it surprises Loki how well the expression suits him. He doesn't like it.

The All-Father took a deep, rattling breath, pulling himself up against the bedding and drawing the attention of the room. "I think it is evident what we must do," he says, looking to the courtiers. There are some that look wary, some that look relieved. He continued, feeding them what he wants them to believe. "We have all heard how Loki aided his brother in the defense of Asgard. Thor will not take the throne."

It is working, he can tell.

"In light of this, Loki is the evident successor. He has proven his worth and I do not doubt he will serve Asgard well. Do you agree to this?" They all nod and murmur agreement, although there are a few who look a little more cautious than others. He has to remember who they are. "Then it is done. This is my will."

'Odin' turns to the figure standing still. "You have my blessing."

* * *

**Prologue done! Proper chapters will be longer, and there will be a hell of a lot more Loki (no such thing as too much), also other things will be explained in the course of the story. Thank you for reading ****- feel free to review/PM me, and any constructive criticism is welcome :)**


	2. Coronation

_**I don't own anything that belongs to MARVEL/The MCU, or the films.**_

**Thank you, my two reviewers! I'm glad you both liked it. Loki's coronation in this chapter; and I absolutely loved writing it! His reign is just about to begin...**

* * *

Loki stood alone in his chambers, running his fingers over his black hair to ensure it didn't fall into his face. He must look perfect for his coronation.

_His_ coronation.

He could hardly believe he'd done it. It had been a fortnight since he had been given 'Odin's' blessing, and since then the death of the All-Father had dominated most proceedings. He had played the grieving son, dressing in dark colours, staying to his rooms, and had gave a lavish funeral.

And now he was going to be the rightful king.

But he was still nervous. The people did not trust him entirely - and why would they? He had been a traitor, a usurper. Of course they would have suspicions. Loki smiled; he would use their suspicion to his advantage.

A heavy hand banged the door and he called, "Enter."

"Majesty," the guard bowed his head.

It was time then. Loki cast a last lingering stare at his image, before turning and following the guard.

The Hall of Asgard was full to the brim. Green flags had been draped around the columns, and the sun shone through. Every courtier was there, every Asgardian who was able was watching. As he walked to the throne, he could feel their eyes on him. The air was silent; a mixture of deference and curiosity.

In the corner of his eye, he could see Sif, Fandral, and Volstagg, standing straight and manacled. He smiled a little. They needed to witness this, to watch him rise.

Loki reached the steps leading up to the high golden throne and ascended.

He turned slowly, taking in all the expressions, savoring every moment - before reclining onto the cold seat. It was a little more uncomfortable than he'd remembered. The most important councilors stepped forward, and then came Heimdall.

The guardian held Loki's green stare as he slowly climbed the steps, the royal scepter in hand.

It had been a mere day after Odin's death when the newly-instated prince had ordered his release. Heimdall was uncertain. He had heard the stories; that Loki had almost died to save Thor, and had miraculously returned to Asgard. But they were stories, and he was yet uncomfortable. The Prince of Asgard was infamous for his cunning and cleverness. Heimdall thought it all too fortunate.

_"Heimdall." Loki did not smile, his face unreadable. The Asgardian tensed. "Odin always spoke highly of you, of your skill as a watchman." _

_He had nodded. __"The All-Father is too generous."_

_"Oh I doubt it - the All-Father is dead. I am to be king." The raven-haired man had considered him momentarily. "But of course, you already knew that. After all, you see everything."_

_"You are to be king." Heimdall was careful not to let anything enter his tone. "And you will need my testimony to become so."_

_"Yes. I will, of course, grant you your freedom. In fact, you may return to your beloved post." Loki had smiled then. "I know you saw in my brother a fine king. I ask only that you remember him as you look upon me." _

_He did not know what to make of that - Loki's words both confused and assuaged him. But perhaps, the whispers were true... Perhaps, he had been prepared to die for Thor..._

_"My King."_

The dark-skinned guardian knelt before the throne. "I swear, upon my watch, that Loki; Son of Odin and Prince of Asgard, was before blessed by the All-Father and declared rightful heir to the throne." He held the spear in front of him. Loki leant forward, anxious not to appear too eager, his long hands outstretched.

He placed Gungnir in his hands. "I declare loyalty to the King."

There was a murmured repeat of his words, and the assembly knelt, crossing a fist against their chests. Loki smmiled as he looked across his subjects.

It did not escape his attention however, that his former friends stood awkwardly. He applauded their bravery and abhorred their foolishness.

He waited for the people to rise. Then he stood, tall and imposing, draped in green and black. "My subjects. I thank you for your loyalty, and hope to serve you well. But," he looked to the three, "there are some who do not kneel." A stir went through the crowd, and Loki could already hear the gossip start.

He hushed them with a wave of one hand. "They are traitors," he continued, his eyes unmoving even as they glared at him, "disloyal to the crown." Sif looked enraged, and Volstagg had a peculair expression on his face which he took a moment to deliberate.

"Yet they remained loyal to my brother... And as such, I will not brand them enemies of the realm." The buzz started again, multiplied tenfold. Even Heimdall looked confused.

"Remove their chains." The guards did as he bid them. The angry expressions on the warriors had disappeared; they looked anxious, bemused and somewhat cynical. Loki sat back down, pleased with how the events were unfolding. "Lady Sif; I am making you Captain of the Guard. It is your duty to know of any uprisings or actions against Asgard, and quell them immediately."

Sif looked stunned. Her lips were slightly parted and her eyes fixed on Loki in disbelief. Smugly, he internally applauded himself. She was by far the most dangerous of the three; but this would keep her occupied and under his watch.

"Volstagg; you are to accompany her whenever she wishes. I would not waste such a fine soldier, nor would I take him from his homeland." The man may be slow-witted, but he knew gratitude, and Loki knew he would keep Sif from acting rashly. Or so he could hope.

"Fandral-" the cavalier man gave a wide grin, and Loki had to refrain from ordering him back to the cell he had been kept in. "I am restoring you to your place as a soldier. May you serve Asgard well."

As they all turned and began to leave, thunderous voices broke out. He could hear arguments, praises, questions... they all melded into a drum of chatter. He looked around, and could see many surprised faces. It appeared he had awed the crowd.

Loki smiled.

* * *

It never took much for Asgardians to throw a celebration. Deaths, births, achievements, losses, there was a feast for them all. The last banquet thrown for him had been to mark his first Millenium. Asgradians didn't celebrate yearly as the mortals did, it was pointless when they lived so long. Thor had arranged for lightning to burn against the night sky in the shape of his name until dawn, and also for a pretty girl clad in green to be sent to his rooms afterwards.

He smiled a little at the memory. He had enjoyed both his presents.

There were a number of people wearing green and gold, he realised. No doubt a small effort to make a good impression upon their new King. Volstagg even had a sprig of green tied into the end of his beard.

The huge warrior was sitting at a long bench, a few of his brood clustered around him, chattering happily. Loki was beginning to understand how to satisfy the people. Keep them safe, and keep them merry. Easy. He averted his gaze from them, standing and moving over to the large stone windows. He'd never known quite what to do with himself around families.

Loki took a moment to enjoy the cool air. Asgard was in the middle of winter, and it was never more evident than in the night. Small flakes of snow drifted across the kingdom, lit up by the golden sheen thrown off the palace. He moved out onto the balcony, leaning forward against the frigid stone wall.

A minute movement caught his hearing. Loki turned, ready to greet whoever it was who had followed him. He almost sighed when he saw who it was.

"Sif." How very predictable. She jerked her head down in a action that was only just brushing the boundaries between rudeness and respect. He raised a brow. "What is it?"

"I was wondering - seeing as you are now ruler of the nine realms - is it not within your power to bring back Thor?" His jaw almost dropped. Sif had never been a fool; surely she did not really think he would bring back his brother now that the throne was his?

"Sif, I want him to be happy just as much as you do." There was a layer of velvet to his words. "You do wish Thor to be happy, do you not?"

She looked and sounded indignant. "Of course I do!"

"As do I. Thor has chosen to give up the throne for Jane Foster. He is happy. The very last thing I would want to do would be to break that contentment that he has found, on Midguard - with the Midguardian. You see?" A curious range of emotions passed across the warrior's features but she did not falter. That was something he had always admired about Sif; her resilience.

He watched in amusement as she struggled to control her voice. "I see."

"So there we have it. It would be utterly selfish of me to summon him back." He did his best to contain his satisfaction as her shoulders lowered little by little. He was winning this fight. "My apologies Sif; I know you were close."

That was the final push. The woman bowed her head quickly again, muttered a curt goodbye, and strode back into the hall.

Loki blinked. Then he turned back to admire the scenery.

* * *

**There you go. Again, please leave a review or message me, reviews are so uplifting :)**


	3. Reparations

**__****I don't own anything that belongs to MARVEL/The MCU.**

**Sorry for the long delay, but coursework comes first. Can't believe it's christmas in a day or so! I suppose I got this out just on time! Thank you for the reviews, and for the follows :) I hope you'll enjoy this chapter!**

* * *

**Several weeks later**

Loki strolled through the vast corridors of the palace alone. He passed nobles, servants, guards. None of them recognised his presence. He smiled to himself - he was indeed a master of magic. During his time in the prisons, left to his own devices, Loki had used his time to hone his magic. Now he was able to camouflage himself without his reflection being visible even in mirrors.

His way was abruptly blocked by a blonde soldier, his arms draped around two painted Asgardian women. He held a goblet of mead in one hand.

"And then, I smite the beast, with naught but my bare hands," he boasted; the mead sloshing dangerously in the goblet. Loki pressed his lips together in disgust. Such inelegance was thoroughly unwelcome at his court.

And the idiot was still blocking his way.

The soldier laughed, his blonde hair falling over his shoulders as he threw his head back. Loki watched as the wine in his hand twisted out of the goblet and landed on the floor in front of him, turning into a frozen burgundy puddle. One which the man's foot pressed on and slid, sending the warrior and both his admirers into painful positions on the ground.

Loki stepped over an outstretched leg and continued his tread. Behind him he could hear cries of, "My leg! I think it's broken!" He suppressed a dry smirk.

The corridors grew quieter as he neared the council chamber. A large room with golden sconces and tall windows, he and Thor had once sat watching Odin discuss laws, taxes, crimes, and all of the duller things that came with ruling.

Thor had never sat through a whole session - he always stated it was "unbelievably boring, especially when there where much better things to be doing!" _Better things_ usually involved fighting or riding. Sometimes both. Loki however, had sat patiently, sometimes even rejecting his brother's invitations to observe the proceedings.

It was times like these, when Thor would leave the room to an array of bows and farewells, that Odin would see the black-haired child sitting there still and give him a small smile.

When Loki was a boy he had thought that meant Odin was proud of him. Now all he saw was deception. And now it was he who sat at the head of the table.

He stepped inside the room to the buzz of chatter from the men sitting at the long, polished table. Snatches of conversation drifted to him as he crossed the room.

"...not much, but she still lost her temper..."

"That's it, well you can't hire anyone these days..."

"...definitely. He's not to be trusted."

The last sentence got his attention. He could count the councilors that trusted him on one hand; the rest were still cautious. He tried not to let it irk him. He would show them.

"Well that's entirely a matter of opinion old chap. You may not trust him, but you can't deny Loki knows what he's about." That was Fandral.

It had been a slight surprise to Loki that the charmer was so at ease with his rule. Perhaps he was being smart; maybe he was grateful; even still saw him as a friend - Loki didn't know or particularly care. The fact was that Fandral - as much as he was somewhat of an annoyance to the King - held sway with members of the council for being a friend of Thor, and therefore they respected his judgement.

The councilor that had spoken - a wide, older noble with a neat beard, argued. "He's a traitor! Thor was the one destined for the throne, and Odin would never have allotted it to Loki!"

He was lucky he could not see the king at that moment.

"Well obviously, he did." Fandral replied in slight exasperation. "Look fellows; I'm not saying Loki is unstained as such; but look at what he's doing. Asgard is already nearly repaired, the people are content, and I don't see any executions so far." There were a few murmurs of agreement along the table. "And as for being a traitor - he saved Thor's life, or do you forget? I'm not entirely sure how that is an act of treason."

Loki let the magic slip away from him. "Thank you for that speech Fandral."

"My King!"

"Your Grace!"

He nodded, soaking in the surprised exclamations as the councilors hurried to greet him properly. He continued, "Such friends will be rewarded. As will those," he smiled at the other councilor, who sat with his mouth in a tight line, "who are not so amicable."

A heavy silence fell. Loki sat back, the only person in the room perfectly at ease.

After a few moment, they began to discuss matters. As the King of Asgard, Loki had to visit each of the realms at least once a year. He agreed without hesitation, knowing how important it was that each world understood his authority. "Not Midgard, however," Fandral amended. "That would be, ah, unwise."

"Certainly." What did he need Midgard for now? He had the real throne. "Besides, with Thor residing there I am sure Midgard is perfectly safe." Loki made sure to mention his brother every so often; it seemed to have a comforting effect on some of the court. There had been a few minor uprisings on Vanaheim and Alfheim, advocating Thor's return. He crossed his legs beneath the table, shifting. "And I trust all the realms are at ease?"

"Lady Sif is dealing with the troublemakers, my liege."

"Good." He scanned the table, "Is that all?"

Fandral spoke, gesturing around him. "My King, some of us have been talking. We cannot afford be in this position again. The war took too much from us."

Almost immediately noise broke out. "We survived, did we not?"

Loki listened intently as they continued to speak. "Barely. This war; it has shown all of us that even Asgard is not invulnerable. There are other worlds, other armies."

Fandral had a point. Loki leaned back in his chair, his long fingers pressed together as he thought. "We need to ally ourselves with influential peoples, so that we are secure."

"Exactly!" Fandral nodded enthusiastically in his direction.

"And who would you recommend?" Loki questioned. His eyes narrowed, "I trust you have given thought to the matter?"

There was a pause, and Fandral did not respond. Another councilor inferred. "Why not the Olympians?"

Loki's tone was condescending. "Zeus? Olympus is strong, but they have always been too impulsive. Zeus and his brothers have not left the comfort of their own worlds in many millenia now. No - I think not." He frowned as the buzz of conversation continued, every so often a suggestion given. Suddenly an idea occurred to him.

"Who was it," his tone was careful, "that the All-Father fought with? In the early days of his reign. Surely one of you must remember."

"Avalon." The councilor who opposed him spoke.

Avalon. "Who is their King?"

"Arawn, I believe."

"Hm." He drummed his fingertips against the varnished table. "They must be strong, to fight against the All-Father and live."

"It was more a disagreement than a fight my Lord. But we had a treaty with them once."

Loki raised a brow. "Is that so? Invite the Avalonian ambassador to court."

Fandral protested, sounding a little apprehensive. "But how will they get here?"

"Can Heimdall see them?"

There was a slight murmuring, "They are not within Yggdrasil, I doubt it my King." He frowned; that was a fault. "However, I believe it is accessible through the Bifrost, although they may be hostile with no prior warning-"

"We'll use the Bifrost."

"But-"

Loki interrupted, his voice stern. "I said, use the Bifrost." His eyes flickered around the table, daring anyone to speak against him. Nobody did. He sighed, adjusting the his sleeve as he spoke, "Send a messenger ahead - I'll write a letter. They are not to return without an answer." He glanced up, "Is business concluded?"

There were nods all round, and then the council was up and leaving. Loki could already imagine the gossip that would spread once the court heard that he had proposed a treaty. As he stood the chief architect bowed. "My lord I wanted to inform you that Queen Frigga's statue has been finished. Shall we mount it in the Hall?"

Loki had ordered a stone and gold likeness of his mother to be created, just as the dead kings before him. In his mind she was far wiser than Odin could ever have been.

"No. Have it raised in the central gardens, facing east."

"Yes, your Grace." The architect left, mumbling instructions to himself.

Loki quickly strode out of the room. He went straight to his chambers and began to write a formal letter for the ambassador to take. It took him only a short time to pen; words flowed from the ink easily, persuasive and alluring. He sealed the letter with green wax. "Guard!"

The door swung open to reveal an armoured Asgardian. He passed the letter to him. "Take this to the royal ambassador - no one else is to touch it, do you understand?"

"Yes, my liege."

"Good. And tell him I want him in Avalon by tomorrow morning, he will be there to propose a treaty on my behalf." Loki dismissed him with a curt nod. The guard left, boots thudding along noisily.

Loki smiled, pouring himself a small glass of wine. With the reparations nearly completed and peace being negotiated, there could be no question left in his subjects minds that he would be a good king. Yet there were some still disquieted. He frowned as this came to mind, setting the glass down on the desk and looking towards the Bifrost.

* * *

"Heimdall."

The guardian inclined his head, "My King."

Loki pulled off the riding gloves that were covering his hands, stepping onto the dais to join the watcher as he stared at the stars. "All is well?"

"Some commotion on Vanaheim still. None to be feared, however."

"I do not fear," Loki was quick to correct him. The amber-eyed man looked at him and he tried to quash the urge to fidget. Heimdall was indeed an observer. He put a smile on his face, "I am actually here to notify you of something," he could see he had his attention, "I have decided to align Asgard with-"

"Avalon. I have heard."

The interruption irked him, but he brushed it off. News travelled fast. "What do you think?"

Heimdall's gaze did not move from the stars. "I neither judge nor condemn the King of Asgard's decisions."

Loki stared at him. So that was how it was going to be. A small smirk grew across his face, "Indeed. I have heard you cannot see Avalon?"

"I cannot."

"May I ask how they managed to travel using the Bifrost? I will need to know."

The guardian was silent for a long moment. Loki raised a brow, "I assume there is a specific way, or direction? I do not want to lose our ambassador to the vast reaches of space." Was it his imagination or did Heimdall look surprised? Loki almost laughed, "No need to appear shocked. Were you expecting a cruel King?"

"No."

Lies. The smiled dropped from Loki's pale face. Heimdall turned the sword, sending the golden walls around them moving with jarring noises. The west was now open to them. "I believe it lies outside of Yggdrasil, to the north west." He gestured towards the worlds far off. "I would have to direct the Bifrost, first towards Vanaheim, but then turn it more to Midgard. The beam should travel between the worlds and out of Yggdrasil, until it reaches Avalon."

"And you can do this?" Loki questioned, his curiousity peaked.

Heimdall nodded hesitantly. "Although I have not for few milennia-"

"I'm sure you'll manage." Loki pulled his gloves back on as he turned the sword, reverting the walls back to their usual places. "Oh, and Heimdall? How is my brother?"

Heimdall looked. "Although he misses Asgard, he is content. Jane Foster makes him happy."

"That is reassuring."

Loki turned, walking back to his horse. _He misses Asgard.._ He pulled the reins of his steed, urging it at a maniacal pace along the Bifrost and towards the shining city. The sooner this alliance the better.

* * *

**OC appearing next chapter *crosses fingers nervously* As always, please review and tell me what you think, it's very motivational! And Merry Christmas Eve! **


	4. Visitors

**__****I don't own anything that belongs to MARVEL/The MCU.**

******Ugh, *ducks flying vegetables* I feel awful for not updating for so long - sorry! Hopefully this chapter will make up for it! Thank you to those of you who left reviews on the last chapter. I hope you all had lovely holidays!**

* * *

The night was dark. The odd rustle from unseen animals came floating though the air every now and again, but nothing else broke the stillness. A heavy mist hung along the earthy ground, shrouding dense forests and high mountains.

With a grinding shriek, a jet of multi-coloured light pierced through the skies, screeching towards the ground with dizzying speed, sending a hubbub of noises in it's wake. Its noisy disruption was brief, and after a few long seconds, the beam retreated back into space; leaving a group of three men heaving breathlessly on the ground.

"What in Valhalla!" One of them exclaimed, picking himself up unsteadily. "Was that?"

The other two, both Asgardian guards, moaned, still on the ground. "Ambassador," a sweating one gasped, reaching across the soft grass for his golden helmet, "Heimdall did warn that it would be-"

"Yes yes, I heard him!" The ambassador flapped his hands, looking around to get his bearings. He fought the wave of nausea that crashed over him when he moved forward a few paces. All he could see was trees swathed in grey fog, several paths clearly cut through them, but nothing was familiar. The guards stood, looking about cautiously. "He also said that we'd land in clear sight of the castle! Do you see any-"

His annoyed questions were cut off by the sound of galloping hooves. The guard instantly unsheathed their swords, looking around for the horses and their riders as the noise grew in volume. A flame, and then another, and more, came flying through the darkness, outlining four figures on horseback.

The guards dropped their visors, crouching down in front of the ambassador as the horses came closer, faster than they had thought possible.

The ambassador gasped, staggering back a little as the riders reined their steeds to a halt mere inches away from where the Asgardians stood. Four arrows were drawn, pointing directly at him.

"State your purpose!" The voice was imperious.

He took a deep breath, summoning his composure. Asgard had yet to see Loki's version of punishment and he definitely didn't want to be the first example. "Peace friends. We are but three - come on behalf of the King of Asgard."

"I don't care who you are - what do you want?" None of their bows lowered.

"Only to propose a treaty with your King, Arawn." They were silent, their faces shrouded due to the long hoods they wore. The ambassador felt a chill run up his ankles - he could see why. Avalon was damp and cold. He nudged the guards imperceptibly, and they put their swords away slowly.

All of the bows lowered. "Very well."

* * *

It became clear to the ambassador why the castle was not in sight - Heimdall had left them at the bottom of the mountain upon which the main city was built, only just in sight of the tall black walls that guarded their entrance. He cursed him sullenly in his head. Damn gatekeeper.

A few olive toned Avalonians stopped to watch them as they passed through the city, but the streets were mostly empty, the rain constant and cold.

Avalon's castle was more of a fortress; made of black stone walls and white marble floors. It towered over them as they approached. The heavy metal gate was pulled up to allow them into a vast courtyard. The guards motioned for them to dismount, and then they were taken into a warm entrance hall.

The guards walked them to the bottom of a shallow flight of steps. "Wait here."

The ambassador huffed - it's not as though he were going anywhere else. He rubbed his damp hands together, soaking in the warmth from the torches that blazed on the walls. The halls of the palace were silent.

Suddenly, the doors set above them opened, and the same guard came out. "You may enter the throne room."

"About time too," the ambassador huffed. Adjusting his wet tunic as best as he could, he climbed the steps and walked into the room.

Opposite him was a raised dais, the centerpiece an ornate wooden throne, wound through with intricate patterns of silver and gems. A heavily cushioned silver couch sat beside it, currently occupied by a woman with long red curls and slender features. The ambassador had to avert his eyes from the immodest cut of her sheer gown.

The throne however, was sat upon by an older man, his face worn and dark hair threaded through with gray. He had a thin silver crown set around his brow, and wore a heavy velvet robe.

The ambassador bowed, and opened his mouth to speak.

"Asgardians!" The King's voice was gravelly and loud. "That would explain the ridiculous hour you visit at. It's been a long time. Two thousand years to you." He chuckled, "Has Odin finally come to beg my forgiveness?"

The ambassador bristled, slightly confused. "The Allfather is dead almost a season now. The king of Asgard is his son, Loki."

The woman on the couch had reached out a hand and was tracing the King's leg. Arawn seemed distracted by her nails on his skin. "Well, what does this King want? I haven't got all night."

"King Loki wishes to form an alliance, as our respective nations once had. He-"

He was interrupted again. "Is that letter for me?"

"Ah this, yes. From Loki himself." The King leant down as he stepped forward, taking the parchment from his hands. He broke the green wax and read it slowly. "Loki wishes to invite you to court, so that he may-"

"Yes, yes!" Arawn rolled the letter back up again. "I agree to this alliance."

The ambassador was shocked, "So- so soon?"

"No harm done, eh?" Arawn took the woman's hand, smiling at her. They stepped down from the dais together, turning away.

"But, your majesty! When shall we expect you?"

"A week's time!" And the King of Avalon was gone.

The ambassador stood there, lost for words. One of the guard behind him snorted. He slapped him heavily, the blow glancing off the man's golden armour. "Shut up. When's Heimdall taking us home?"

"He said he'd give us a day."

"But I'm finished now."

The guard shrugged, "Like I said; a day."

"Damn gatekeeper!"

* * *

The night passed uneventfully, but the next day the Asgardian delegation saw the familiar light of the Bifrost break through the sky. The journey back was as nauseating as before, but this time at least they landed on their feet.

Heimdall raised a brow at the ambassador's pale face. "Well?"

"You left us at the bottom of a bloody mountain!"

"I was referring to the alliance Loki seeks. But, I could hardly project you to their courtyard; they would've killed you on sight."

"Well..." The ambassador huffed, "We'll be having visitors."

"Is that so? The king will be glad to hear it." The gatekeeper inclined his head, "You'd best be on your way, Ambassador." With a metallic screech, he pulled the sword, closing the Bifrost and turned back to gaze at the worlds around him.

It was late afternoon in Asgard, although the had left Avalon when the morning was new. "They must be half a day behind us," the ambassador muttered to himself as he pulled his squat body onto a saddle.

"What?"

"Nothing," he waved his hand at the guard impatiently. "Come on, let's get this over with."

The journey to Asgard's palace took only a little while; and the ambassador found himself wishing it took longer. He could not explain what it was about their new king that unsettled him - there was just an atmosphere about him that put a man on edge.

Rubbing his hands a little nervously, he stepped into the throne room. It was a long walk from the door to the foot of the throne, and he could feel Loki's eyes on him with every step. When he reached the throne at last, he knelt.

Loki's voice was silky and a little bored. "Ambassador. Back so soon?"

"Yes my liege, the Avalonian king was quick to agree to negotiations."

Loki smiled like a cat, "Really? That is good news indeed. When are we expecting them?"

"A week's time, my King." The smile faded a little. Long fingers drummed against Gungnir, resting heavily in his hand.

"Tell me, ambassador, what am I to expect?"

The ambassador rushed to assure him. "Arawn does not hold grudges against Asgard; he seemed happy to-"

"Not like _that_. What type of king is he?"

He was lost for words. "Uh... Competent seeming my Lord. High spirited. If not a little dismissive."

Loki nodded. "I see." His eyes glinted, "You've done well Ambassador."

"Thank you, your majesty."

There was a long pause. Loki raised a brow at the man. "You can leave now."

* * *

Over the next week, Asgard was a flurry of preparations. Baking and decorating, children collecting flowers to scatter, the guards polished their armour. The palace was cleaned even more thoroughly than usual; the gold pristine and shining. Even Loki was looking forward to the coming event - for a different reason, of course.

Being king was not as exciting as he'd first thought. Yes there were politics; sometimes vicious, and matters to be discussed, but overall Asgard was at peace. He supposed the realm deserved a little peace after all the recent events. He wondered why Odin needed to sleep so much.

Loki made a point to visit Heimdall almost frequently to enquire after his brother. There were still some on other realms; Vanaheim in particular, who called for Thor to be seated upon the throne. It irked him, and made him look forward to the day this treaty was formed.

Soon that day arrived. It was warm, the air clear and crisp, and all the nobles had come to court. The palace was more full than he'd see it in the past century. Loki had noticed, with slight exasperation, that many more of the nobles were sending their unwed daughters to court these days.

"It's wonderful," Fandral had told him - one day when he'd had enough of father's advocating their children. "A little femininity about is hardly going to dull the place, is it? Don't tell me you don't indulge, those black locks of yours must be quite eye-catching."

"I do not_ indulge_," Loki had replied frostily. Fandral had simply shrugged.

"The more the merrier," he'd stated,

Fandral was still as ridiculous as he had been; however, these days Loki had begun to find him tolerable. However he had to warn him before the Avalonians arrived, "If they bring women, under_ no circumstances_ are you to be... yourself."

"Righto. I'll be Ulric, shall I?"

Still as ridiculous.

The throne room was full of courtiers, all waiting to see the visitors. Loki sat high in the throe, above them all, waiting as impatiently as the rest of them. A rider entered the hall, fighting his way through the throng of richly clad, murmuring nobles. He knelt at the steps, "They are here, my King."

Loki nodded, "Good, bring them in."

The room quietened as the guards began separating a path through the crowds. By the time the rider reached the doors again, the loud chatter had lowered to whisperings.

The sound of footsteps came before the party appeared.

Loki glared at the Ambassador, who was standing close to the front, before they reached the foot of the throne. _That was not a man._ The ambassador paled and disappeared into the crowed. He returned his focus to the party coming closer.

Six guards flanked a buxom, dark-haired woman clothed in a blue gown. She had smooth olive skin, cool grey eyes, and a delicate nose. Looking properly, she was quite appealing, he observed. Her gaze scanned the throne. And the man on it.

Loki was aware of the whispering of the courtiers as she stepped towards him. "Your majesty may I present Andraste of Avalon, on behalf of her father King Arawn." The woman dipped her head briefly.

"Avalon is honoured by your invitation, King Loki," her voice was clear and firm. "As is my father."

Loki spoke silkily, his green eyes on hers. "You are most welcome here. It is my greatest desire that relations between our realms will be repaired, and a stronger friendship formed. We are holding a feast tonight in honour of your arrival." He paused, eyes flickering over the silver-armoured guards. "I was expecting your father."

She didn't miss a beat. "Unfortunately, he's busy with the kingdom. I'm sure you can relate."

"Of course. Chambers have been made ready for you and your entourage."

She smiled, "Thank you for your hospitality, it is well appreciated."

He nodded, watching as she turned on her heel and left the hall.

* * *

Andraste could feel the eyes of the lords and ladies watching her every move as she left the hall, keeping her head held high. As the doors shut gently behind her, she could hear the talk resume.

A young serving girl stood waiting, her appearance pristine. She dropped into a low curtsy. "Your majesty-"

"My Lady, please." She smiled at the maid. "I'm not a queen yet."

"Sorry, my Lady."

"No offence taken." She cast her grey eyes around her. Asgard's palace was gilded and golden, a show of strength. It had stone floors and the high ceilings were panelled with wood. Wide windows allowed sunlight to illuminate the corridors.

"If you could follow me to your rooms," the girl curtsied again briefly. Leaving the guards behind, Andraste followed her through the palace to a room not far from the hall. When they reached the doors, the servant looked at the one remaining guard still with them. "Er-"

"Don't worry about her, she's a friend."

The maid's eyes widened, "_Her_?" she voiced incredulously.

Andraste frowned, her eyes meeting a pair of blue ones behind the silver visor. "Brigid, would you?"

The maid continued staring as the guard lifted their hands and pulled off their helmet. A mane of dark blonde hair fell out, pulled back against the woman's head. She stood with a slightly hostile stare at the girl.

"I- I- I've never seen a lady guard before," she stammered in disbelief.

Andraste raised a brow, "Really?"

"Well apart from the Lady Sif, but..."

"I'm not a damn lady," the blonde woman clarified, a little annoyed. "I'm a _guard_."

Andraste suppressed a groan. Not this again. "If that's all," she said quickly.

The servant nodded, "Um, yes, my Lady." She curtsied, before leaving with wide eyes.

Brigid shut the door behind her and turned to Andraste. They shared a look. "_Lady_?" Brigid repeated again, still miffed. "I'm not a lady!" She threw her gauntlets on the bed. "Honestly, Ann, do I look like a lady to you?"

The dark-haired woman laughed, pulling off her blue cloak, "Not at all Brigid."

* * *

**Just a little additional info: I'm using some names from celtic deities (Andraste, Arawn, Brigid) becasue I feel it fits Avalon, which is a celtic/arthurian concept after all. So if you noticed, yep.**

**I have to admit, I have a soft spot for Fandral (I have a soft spot for most of the THOR characters tbh) so yeah, expect him to pop up. I hope you enjoyed this chapter - please leave reviews, tell me what you think! They mean so much to me :) ****Next chapter is in the works! **


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